


Two Weeks Notice

by RisemboolRanger



Series: Psych series [1]
Category: Psych
Genre: Academy, Career, Contest Entry, F/M, Friendship, Police, Romance, life - Freeform, writing challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-02-20
Packaged: 2018-01-12 14:18:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1188366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RisemboolRanger/pseuds/RisemboolRanger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rudi used to train police dogs. Now she's training to become a cop herself. She's always found working with dogs a lot easier than working with people but, although two weeks doesn't seem like a long time, it's enough to show her that she was actually wrong all along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Name Basis

**Author's Note:**

> This is for a writing contest on deviantART called the 'I want to win your heart' challenge. The idea is to get a couple to fall in love in fourteen days and that you have to include all fourteen days within your story. I kinda skewed the idea a bit, because I don't believe that people could actually fall in love within fourteen days. So mine's more of a 'get together in fourteen days' kinda thing.

**DAY 1.  
1100 HRS.**

I swear people think I'm some kind of social recluse or something. When you're the guest of honour at your own leaving party, you should be made to feel special. Happy. Maybe a little sad to be leaving the people of your old vocation behind. But certainly not made to feel like an idiot.

Though that's just me, I guess. I only really have one close friend. Besides that, I tend to get on much better with dogs than with people. How can I help it? Dogs listen much better than people do. But the way my colleagues, or old colleagues now, went on about it - especially at my leaving party - you'd think I was some kind of alien. Despite the fact that we all worked with dogs. I still just had to be the weird one, apparently.

I would have loved nothing better than a good drink or four - it might have made the ongoing jokes a little easier - but I really couldn't have afforded it with my new start this morning. So instead, I'd put up with it and then ducked out as soon as I could make excuses for, also successfully scoring myself an early night in bed in the process. Win-win.

I was certainly grateful for it today. It gave me plenty of time to shower and get ready without feeling the need to rush and then be likely to forget something. I received one last joke before my big start. This from my best friend, Jenns.

' _Remember, don't feed the humans. They may bite._ '

At least there was actually some humour in that one. It even earned a small smile from me, though I'd never admit it. Not like the more disturbing, though apparently made in good intent, jibes about me having unhealthy relationships with my furry friends. All of it untrue, of course. Sadly, that was just the bane of being everyone's punch line.

But not anymore. Today was the day that I was moving on from training dogs and instead onto training... well, me. I guessed I was to be the test subject from now on. Though it seemed like a huge changeover, it wasn't really. I was still working in a relative field. I'd spent the last seven years training up police dogs and now I was training to become an officer of the law myself.

I sent Jenns a snarky reply before turning my phone off. I didn't want to be the bad student whose phone rang during class. After making sure I had everything I could possibly need - including the old inhaler that I hadn't needed for years and which would probably have fermented into some kind of narcotic by now, knowing my luck - I locked up the apartment, got into my car and headed down to the Santa Barbara Police Academy.

Police work had always been an interest of mine. I'd majored in my behavioural psychology degree and minored in zoology (because apparently, I wasn't allowed to only like one thing). Amazingly, it was that minor that had then taken priority with my attention. I'd gotten into the police field as planned, but ended up training police dogs instead. And I'd loved every minute of it.

When I eventually decided to go into the force myself after all, I was put straight onto a personal crash course through special recommendation from the training company I'd been with - a recommendation that had gone through the Santa Barbara Police Department itself. I'd get my own personal instructor for the first week before joining the group training with the rest of the cadets. Sometimes, it was just all about who you knew.

Academy training didn't actually start till noon, meaning I was a teeny bit early. And by teeny, I meant an hour. I'd always been on the opposite end of the scale to tardy. It was all part of the I-don't-like-rushing scheme. Plus I preferred having my own time to familiarise myself with people and places. Particularly important ones like this.

And as it was, my instructor didn't seem to mind my crazily early appearance. Or at least, if he did, then he was too polite to mention it.

"My name's Officer Nick Conforth, Associate Head of the Academy and in charge of all cadet training. I'll be your instructor for the entirety of this course," he introduced himself, dutifully holding out his hand.

He had dark, almost black hair, with brown eyes only a few shades lighter. Fairly standard build for an officer, though probably a little below average height. He had reasonably tanned skin, either from spending a lot of time outdoors or through heritage - maybe some kind of Italian or Hispanic descent... Yes, I'm training to be a cop; of course I always have to profile people. 

"Rudi Hassle," I replied, responding to the handshake and waiting for the inevitable 'Oh, are you going to give me hassle then?' joke. Which never came. That had to have been a first. Score one to him.

I was handed a folder. "This contains your itinerary and all necessary information regarding your training programme. The course will be split equally amongst theoretical education, fieldwork and physical training."

"Sounds good," I complied, taking the folder and tucking it under my arm. I'd always liked a good mix.

"Over the next two weeks, you will be put through intensive exercises, training you to instinctively think and act like an officer of the law," Conforth detailed. "For the first week, you'll be working directly with me, as requested by the S.B.P.D. For the second week, you'll be training amongst a group of other cadets too."

I nodded. This part I already knew, but at least I could see he was clearly a man of procedure. He definitely had a very professional air about him. "Right."

He presented me with a plastic box. "All of your equipment can be found in here. The guns and badges are props, but everything else is what is issued to all current officers."

Of course, I had to have a quick rifle through the box as he was talking. There was quite a lot of gear, though I'd already anticipated that. Maybe I'd have to allocate extra time for getting ready if I was to be making sure I had everything on me every day.

"An officer's possessions are their personal responsibility," Conforth continued. "You are to account for your equipment at all times. Is everything clear so far?"

"Crystal," I confirmed without hesitation. Hell, now that I was down here, I just wanted to get down to business. Maybe I'd skip the familiarising part after all.

That actually earned me a small smile. Hey, I could do professional too, you know. Conforth handed me a final package. It contained a cadet's uniform and a grey tracksuit with 'S.B.P.D. Cadet' printed on the chest. "Then I guess the only thing left to say is welcome to the Academy."

I resisted the urge to give a comic salute and bark 'sir, yes, sir' in response. If I didn't like people using cliché jokes on me, then I couldn't really do the same to others. Even though I personally thought it would have been quite amusing.

So instead, I just returned the smile and said, "Thank you. I'm looking forward to the programme." I meant it too. I was determined to do well at this and prove everyone from my old team wrong. I could work with people just as well as I could with dogs.

Plus if I could do even half as good a job as the dogs that I'd trained, then that alone would feel like a personal sense of achievement.

**XXX**

**DAY 2.  
1300 HRS.**

It didn't take long to become apparent that I'd never quite escape my doggy-loving roots, even if I'd wanted to. They'd just always hold that huge soft spot in my heart. I can coo over dogs the way most women would over babies.

What made it obvious was when I spotted a large tan bloodhound lying on a mat in the doorway behind one of the desks, lazily observing the room around him. He was big, with long floppy jowls and permanently sad-looking eyes. He was gorgeous.

"Heeey, who's this?" I asked endearingly, navigating my way around the desk so that I could kneel down beside him.

Conforth looked round from his desk. "Oh, that's our scent dog. He's the best scent dog on the force."

I scratched behind the dog's ears and smiled. I loved when dogs had 'smushy faces', as I'd always said when I was younger. Oh, who was I kidding? I still said that now. I'd never found a better term for it. "He's lovely. He kinda looks like that guy from King Creole."

"Let me guess; Walter Matthau?"

"Yeah, that's the one." I turned and saw that Conforth had raised his eyebrows and was giving me a strange look. "What?"

He shook his head. "It's nothing. Never mind."

I just shrugged it off. "So what's this guy's name?"

"Fenway."

Okay, now that was adorable. Plus the name actually struck a chord in my memory. "He wasn't from San Andres Training by any chance, was he?"

"Actually, he was. That's where we get all of our trained dogs from," said Conforth, nonplussed. "How did you know?"

I knew it. "That's where I worked up until now," I explained, my attention back on tickling Fenway's chin. "I wasn't there at the time, but this guy's actually on our doggy wall of fame as one of our best old students. I thought I recognised that face."

"I'm not surprised by that - he's assisted in solving over fifty cases," said Conforth proudly. He gained another point for that. "I wasn't aware you trained police dogs before now; I was only told that you were in a relative field."

"Yeah, I kinda fell into it by accident. And then it ended up taking priority over becoming a cop," I admitted. I added jokingly, "But this year, I figured it was time to stop playing with dogs and try working with people instead."

"It's clearly going well already," said Conforth pointedly with the barest hint of a smile, referring to how I was obviously currently more interested in petting Fenway than anything else.

I grinned sheepishly in response. "Hey, it's only my second day. We'll just say I'm still learning."

Yeah. Those doggy-loving roots clearly weren't going anywhere.

**XXX**

**DAY 3.  
1600 HRS.**

I love physical training.

All those of years of being an exercise geek - yes, I'm one of those nerds who jogs with a pedometer, iPod armband, heart rate monitor, you name it - finally paid off. I was sure that I'd have been star pupil today if I'd actually had other classmates to contend with. Hey, sometimes overconfidence can be beneficial.

Like any exercise, I'd had to start with some warm-ups. Squats, jumping jacks, various stretches... You know, the basic stuff. Then after that, I got to hit the assault course. And oh man, was that fun.

There were balance beams, a tyre run, various-heighted hurdles, a climbing wall and a swinging rope positioned over a pool of water. The course basically required a combination of balance, stamina and climbing skills. And obviously speed, if you wanted to complete it in a good time. No sweat.

One of my favourite hobbies in my free time is rock climbing, so the balance, the upper body strength and the climbing parts were all a total breeze. Plus I'd had enough practice at competitive jogging to keep my speed up too.

The balance beams were easy-peasy. So was the climbing wall. I hadn't expected to do as well on the tyre run - my legs aren't exactly on the long end of the spectrum - but it clearly just comes down to thinking about your footwork. I managed to keep up a fairly medium pace when tackling the tyres. That was good enough for me.

The hurdles were a lot of fun. They were spaced out at specific intervals, but all fixed at different heights. They were designed to push you to make snap decisions, choosing which would be easier to scale and which would be easier to duck underneath. I'm quite a quick, logical thinker - mostly derived from too many Friday nights in alone, doing puzzles and watching TV - so I had no problems there.

The rope swing kinda comes down to judgement too, to know the exact moment you need to jump off. Part judgement and part, you know, the ability to hold yourself up on a rope. Plus it made me feel like a total action hero. I was tempted to gush, 'Can I do it again? Can I do it again?' but figured acting like a child probably wouldn't put me in any good books. So I bit my tongue on that one.

Conforth clicked his stopwatch and called the time on the display. It sounded good to me, but then I didn't exactly know what the average was for this course.

"You beat the average completion time by eleven seconds. That's quite impressive." Even he sounded surprised, much to my amusement. Most people tended to put me down as a bookworm type, rather than an action woman. I was used to it.

"Great!" I was pleased with myself. If the rest of the course was like this, then I'd be a qualified cop in less than two weeks' time.

"You lost some time on the tyre run, so with practice, your score could be even better," Conforth added. "But for the most part, your speed was great. You have good stamina."

"Yeah, that's what all the guys say," I joked without thinking.

As soon as I did, I regretted it. Conforth clearly had no idea what to say to that. Why had I had to go and say such a dumb thing? I didn't know him well enough to make jokes like that. Jenns would have loved it, but as it was, Conforth just looked quite uncomfortable. Which only made me feel embarrassed too.

"Sorry, I didn't mean... I mean, what I meant was, erm..." I gave up trying and looked for a way to change the subject instead. "So, err, can I try the course again to see if I can beat my time?"

"Err, sure." Conforth cleared his throat and quickly regained his composure. "I'll restart the clock."

I hastily headed back to the beginning of the assault course. Oh, man, the guys at San Andres would have been laughing so hard at me if they'd heard that, I thought to myself grumpily. I'd originally hoped that this programme would help me to _not_ make an ass out of myself.

Though maybe that was just something else I'd never be able to escape from. Rudi Hassle: Grade A Idiot. That's me.

"And go!" Conforth called, starting the stopwatch.

I took off, throwing myself at the course ahead of me again to try and occupy my mind with something other than my dumb comment. Apparently, overly physical work isn't the best way to distract yourself. Instead, it just seemed to make my performance sloppy. I did even worse on the tyre run than before and then felt I was slower on all of the other obstacles too.

I could have just been imagining it because I still felt embarrassed about my poorly made joke. I did consider that possibility... Until I took the rope swing too early and landed right on the precipice of the small pool, losing my balance and falling backwards onto my ass in the dirty water.

Yeah, I definitely should have stuck with my original time.

**XXX**

**DAY 4.  
1400 HRS.**

I didn't enjoy shooting practice even half as much as I had the physical training. Well... my first, non-failed attempt at it anyway. I was still trying to forget that the second round had even happened.

Armed with a gun, yellow-tinted safety glasses and big, blue noise-reducing headphones, I'd made my way around a course of pop-up cardboard cut-outs of supposed 'criminals' and 'innocent bystanders'. Conforth had followed, wearing the same protective gear and carrying a clipboard.

"You're quick to react and good at making fast judgements..." he began, after we'd both removed the headphones.

"But my aim sucks," I finished for him, lifting my safety glasses and pushing them back up onto my head. I hadn't done anywhere near as well on this part of the training as I would have liked.

"It's average," Conforth corrected me. "The potential's there - you just need more practice in order to improve."

I'd always thought that average generally sounded like a back-handed compliment, but on this occasion, I wasn't offended in the slightest. Conforth was about as professional as they got. If something needed improvement, then he'd say so. He could be complimentary too, when it was deserved. I actually couldn't have asked for a better instructor.

But that didn't really change the fact that ten days didn't seem like a very long time to make said improvement.

I sighed. "Have you got any pointers you can give me?"

"Sure. Show me your aim."

"Okay." I raised the gun, using my right hand to steady my left, like he'd shown me when we'd first started.

"Keep your thumb straight so that it doesn't get in the way of your support hand," Conforth directed. "And make sure there's no spaces between your fingers - keep your support hand cupped tightly."

I readjusted my grip slightly. "Like this?"

"That's it. And always keep both eyes open," Conforth added. "Closing one actually alters your perspective, rather than improving your aim."

Wow, how John Smith of him. "This way I'll see twice as well, huh?"

"That's right." I guessed most guys didn't get minor Disney references. "Closing one eye only helps if you have double vision. And if that's the case, then you definitely shouldn't be shooting a gun."

"Wait, was that a joke I just heard?" I said teasingly.

"Maybe." Conforth gave me a tight smile in return. "Now put your safety glasses and headphones back on and try again. I want you to shoot that cut-out over there. Aim for the middle of the head."

I obligingly pushed my glasses down and fixed the headphones back into place, whilst Conforth did the same. I raised the gun again, adjusting my fingers into the position that he'd just shown me, and shot at the target. The slightly different hold did help a little with the recoil. The gun didn't seem to jump in my hand quite as much.

It still didn't negate it entirely though. The bullet still jumped higher than I'd wanted it to, tearing a hole through the very edge at the top of the cut-out's head. Less than a centimetre higher and I would have missed it entirely. I'd actually been aiming for where the cardboard crook's mouth was. Goddamn it.

Conforth put a hand in front of me, signalling me to stop and take the headphones off again. "You're still not allowing enough for the recoil," he said, once my hearing was free of obstruction. "Your shots are going too high."

I felt frustrated with myself. Why was I struggling with this so much? I guessed I'd been naive in expecting it to be easy. "Let me watch you do it."

Conforth raised his eyebrows. "Why?"

"I don't know. For inspiration or something." I shrugged. "Come on, you know you want to."

Why is it that those are the magic words that work on any guy? Even a professional like Conforth. They just can't seem to resist the whole macho display opportunity.

He took the gun and motioned for me to put my headphones back on, which I did more eagerly this time. How often was it that you got to watch an official police officer fire a weapon? He fixed his own headphones into place again, took steady aim with the gun and fired.

It took me a few seconds to spot where the bullet had hit. It was right along the top edge of the cut-out, directly beside and intertwining with the hole that I'd already made. How the hell could you aim at _and_ successfully hit something as tiny as another bullet hole?

"That was amazing!" I exclaimed, tearing my headphones off again. "How did you do that?"

"Years of practice and concentration," Conforth replied professionally, though I could see the barest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Yeah, he was totally pleased.

"Seriously, that was really impressive," I commended him. "Are you one of those people who could, like, shoot a gun out of someone's hands?"

"That would be highly dangerous. Not to mention near impossible."

"But still doable, right?"

"Let's just stick with the target boards for now," Conforth backtracked. "Now, headphones back on. I want you to try again."

**XXX**

**DAY 5.  
1400 HRS.**

Today was my first experience being out in the field. It wasn't as glamorous as it sounded. We were driving round part of downtown Santa Barbara on patrol in Conforth's police cruiser. Not hugely exciting, but a necessary part of police work. And it did present more opportunity for conversation. Anyone who knows me knows that I can talk. A lot.

In contrast, Conforth wasn't really the biggest talker - I doubted he dropped that professional air even at home - but I felt I did manage to get him to open up a little more. Just a little.

"So did you attend the same academy when you were in training?" I asked.

"The very same," said Conforth, his dark eyes never leaving the road ahead as we cruised along.

"I bet you were one of the best students, weren't you?" I grinned. I totally couldn't forget that shot that he'd made yesterday.

That ghost of a smile touched his lips again. "I may have graduated in the top spot."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Why am I not surprised?"

Conforth smiled properly that time. "It wasn't actually that easy. Another cadet and myself were competing for that spot throughout the whole programme. He was even convinced that I cheated on the final exam."

"And did you?" I teased, amused.

"Miss Hassle, I'm offended that you'd even think that."

"Kidding, kidding," I grinned, though I could tell from his tone that he already knew that. "And please, just call me Rudi. I've never liked 'miss'. If you're a miss in your thirties, then it makes you sound like an old spinster."

He actually chuckled at that. "Alright then. I'll remember that."

"So did you always want to teach new cadets?" I continued, back onto questioning. "Or were you training to become a police officer at first?"

"I was originally training to join the force. I worked in the field for a little while before I decided to return to the Academy," said Conforth.

"How long did you work in the field for?"

"Six months."

Wow, that really was only a little while. I was no stranger to changing vocation myself, so of course, I wasn't judging. I was just nosy. "So how come you changed your mind?"

"It just turned out that I was more interested in teaching," Conforth replied shortly.

I could tell then that he wasn't entirely telling the truth. My psychology degree started to kick in as I noticed the change in the tone of his voice, how his hands had tightened on the steering wheel, the fact that he was staring straight ahead without blinking anymore...

But I could also tell that it wasn't my business. I may have been nosy, but I still knew when best to let things lie. It was obvious when a person didn't want to talk about something.

"Well, you definitely do a good job," I commended, as my way of apologising for straying into tense territory. I then sat back in my seat and switched to looking out of the passenger window instead.

The conversation died out after that and I cursed myself for ruining the progress that I'd made. Though as it was, the patrol ended up getting cut short anyway. We'd been driving slowly along the back road outside a rundown convenience store when something caught Conforth's attention.

He suddenly tensed in his seat, sitting bolt upright. "That man going into the store has a gun."

"Wait, _what_?" I exclaimed, amazed. What kind of idiot would attempt a store robbery with a police car driving past?

"He must not have seen us. He was concentrating on the store," said Conforth, answering my unasked question. He ripped the radio from his lapel and spoke quickly into the mouth piece, his eyes flitting towards the GPS display attached to the dashboard. "This is Officer Conforth, requesting immediate back-up for a potential armed robbery of Angelo's Convenience on Ortega Street."

Luckily, he received an immediate reply from another officer, promising to be only five minutes away. Conforth had clearly picked quite a notorious area to patrol. It was all very interesting, but what I didn't get was why we were both still sitting in the cruiser.

"Shouldn't we get in there? Or you, at least?" I asked. The most he'd done was move the car further along the street, stopping where we could still see the store, but so that most of the car was hidden behind some scraggly bushes.

Conforth seemed to hesitate, though I wasn't sure why. "I can't get a cadet involved in a potential act of robbery. And I can't leave you alone in the cruiser - you're supposed to be under my supervision at all times during this patrol."

I guessed that made sense. At least we supposedly only had five minutes before another officer would be on the scene. But it still didn't feel right to just sit there.

"Besides, it probably isn't likely to be an actual robbery," Conforth added. "It's a tiny, old store. It wouldn't be worth much of a hold-up."

"So if he's not robbing the place, then what does he need a gun for?" I questioned.

"A feud with the owner, most likely. It's probably just a scare tactic, if anything."

"It still seems stupid to go waving a gun around in broad daylight, even if it is just as a threat," I commented.

"He had the gun concealed. But you could tell he was armed from the way he'd positioned his jacket and how he held his hand at his hip," Conforth explained. "Even from the way that he walked."

I couldn't deny that I was impressed. I already knew that he was a total pro at his job, but he really did know his stuff. Yet, something still seemed amiss. He seemed incredibly tense, even for the current situation. His hands had tightened on the steering wheel again, more so than before - to the point where his knuckles were straining white against his skin.

Again, I knew better than to say anything. I was only the student here. He was probably just worried about having a cadet so close to a potential police incident. It must have been hard for him to sit there and wait for a second officer, rather than being able to just take things into his own hands. I knew that I would have been dying to get involved if I'd been in his shoes.

An unmarked cruiser turned up not long afterwards. A tall officer got out and simply nodded at Conforth, with no further exchange, before heading straight into the convenience store. Only then did Conforth seem to relax slightly.

"Sorry to cut this short, but I think we're best to head back to the Academy," he said.

"Shouldn't we wait to see what happens?" I asked uncertainly.

"No can do. If worst comes to worst and it turns into a shoot-out, then I can't have a cadet in the vicinity," replied Conforth. "It's in that officer's hands now. He'll have called for more back-up himself if he thought it necessary."

More proof that I was just the student and Conforth was the teacher. "I guess..." I agreed reluctantly, sitting back in my seat again.

"Don't worry. You'll get your share of excitement yourself once you've graduated," Conforth assured me, pulling back out onto the street.

I couldn't help but smile at that. He'd hit the nail on the head. It was pretty annoying having just been so close to a potential incident, but having to have stayed on the sidelines. I couldn't wait to get my own badge - then I wouldn't have to worry about such heavy supervision.

If all went well, then it'd only be nine days to go. Just nine more days.

**XXX**

**DAY 6.  
1230 HRS.**

Because the first patrol had been cut short, we were trying again today. I'd originally not thought much of the idea of patrolling. Again, dull, but necessary. But it had already started to grow on me. It was a really good way to familiarise yourself with the area that you were patrolling.

Plus I was a really nosy passenger, so I was just happy that I wasn't the one driving. Today we were driving around a slightly nicer neighbourhood than yesterday. I didn't expect any excitement this time, but I still kept an interested eye out.

To my surprise, Conforth took the reins on conversation this time. "So what prompted the career change? You said you were at San Andres for... seven years, was it?" Wow, a man who actually listened. Good cop, you get a cookie.

"Well, I'd always wanted to be a police officer, even if I did get a little distracted by a different opportunity," I explained. I then laughed. "But I got to the stage where I felt that the dogs were doing more police work than I was. So I wanted to get stuck in and do more to actually help people myself."

"I think what you were doing was already enough in that respect," said Conforth. "Scent dogs have to be trained by somebody. And San Andres has turned out some of the best working dogs on the force."

I was a little taken aback. I hadn't been expecting a compliment. "Oh... Thanks." I then added hastily, "You do a lot to help people too, doing what you do."

"Now you're just kissing up to the teacher," Conforth smiled, his eyes still on the road.

I laughed. It was nice to see that he did have a sense of humour. "Well, you can't blame a girl for trying... Or an old woman, more like."

"Rudi, I think it'll be a long time before you class as an old woman."

"I think you're flattering me, Officer Conforth," I said teasingly. "Also kudos for sticking with the first name."

"I never need to be told anything twice," he replied amusedly. "And just Nick's fine."

Just Nick, huh? I smiled, glad he seemed to have opened up a little more. And now we were on a first name basis. Not bad for six day's work. "How about Nicky?" I joked.

"Too far."

"That's fair," I conceded.


	2. Thirty-Three's A Crowd

**DAY 7.  
1800 HRS.**

I wasn't feeling quite as good-humoured today. In fact, I'd started off as a mini ball of stress. Mock tests had never seemed quite so scary before. Especially considering that these didn't even count for anything. I still had a whole week left on the programme - this was just something of a progress report.

As it turned out, however, I'd been worrying for nothing. Conforth - or rather Nick, I guess - handed me back my practice paper with a slight smile. "Full marks. Well done."

"And I thought the days of me being the teacher's pet had passed," I laughed. I'd been a total goody-goody back in school. That had changed somewhat since college.

"That's never a bad thing," he smiled.

I smiled back. I actually kind of wanted him to be proud of how I'd done so far - though maybe not with the shooting; that still personally felt like a lost cause. Having been the only cadet this past week, I felt I had pretty high standards to meet. And I sure hoped that I had.

"Only from now on, I'm going to have competition," I joked.

From tomorrow, I'd be continuing my training amongst other new cadets. As well as having several other instructors to answer to. I realised that I found that kind of sad in a way. I probably wouldn't have quite as much to do with Nick now. I'd rather liked the one-on-one treatment.

"You'll do fine," Nick assured me. "If you have any questions throughout the rest of the programme, then feel free to still come to me for any help."

Or maybe I'd still stick as favourite student after all. I grinned, certainly happy with the offer. "Of course!"

"And in return, I'll be coming to you if the academy needs to take on another scent dog."

"I'll help you pick out the best one," I promised. "But seriously, thanks for all your help so far. I'm sure the other instructors won't compare."

Okay, maybe I was sucking up a little bit. But it didn't make it any less sincere. I still meant it. And I think I actually managed to embarrass him a little too. He didn't seem like he quite knew what to say to that.

"Not a problem. And thank you." He ended up awkwardly holding out his hand, which I actually found quite funny. Geez, he was so professional about everything. It wasn't like I wasn't going to see him again. I was still here for the next week.

I returned the handshake in amusement. "You're welcome." I guessed that his reaction only confirmed that I was right - I clearly wasn't going to have as much to do with him for the final week.

But I couldn't really dwell on that now. A week really wasn't a very long time. And that was now all I had left before I had real tests to take.

**XXX**

**DAY 8.  
1630 HRS.**

Working with other cadets was actually more fun than I'd anticipated, even if most of them were younger than me - just a nice stabbing reminder that I wasn't twenty-nine anymore. Despite that fact, they all seemed to take the programme in complete seriousness.

Don't get me wrong; I took it seriously too. It was what I'd wanted for over a decade now, after all. But you could still take things seriously whilst having a bit of fun and making jokes at the same time. Was I really the only one who wanted to start singing " _I don't know, but I've been told..._ " when we were all lining up at the assault course?

Of course, no one was quite as professional as Nick. Particularly with the theoretical work. Over the last week, the theory stuff had been more of a one-on-one discussion. But now he was teaching a whole class and he seemed to be doing it a lot more formally. He really was like a teacher.

And I felt like the naughty student. I'd learnt that I found him quite funny to watch. Not that he was doing anything wrong, of course - in fact, it was actually the opposite. He'd impressed me again and again with his skills at various aspects of police work. And his theoretical knowledge was definitely impressive too.

It was just that air of professionalism that amused me. I wasn't entirely sure when it had happened, but I'd grown to find it quite endearing. I think he knew I was rather entertained by the teaching too, because he seemed to be purposely avoiding looking in my direction. Of course, that just amused me all the more.

I wondered idly if I tried flicking my pencil at him, if I'd get given a note to see him after class. Even I wasn't foolish enough to actually try it. I did actually want to stay in his good books. And I reckoned that he could play bad cop pretty damn well.

But in all honesty, I think my whole enjoyment factor was actually only stemming from one thing. We'd had a new instructor when we'd tackled the physical training and then another new one when we'd been taking turns around the shooting course - his tips on aiming hadn't been anywhere near as helpful either. And I'd been right; they hadn't compared at all.

This theory class had actually been the first time that I'd seen Nick all day. I'd quickly realised that I'd been very aware of that fact too. It wasn't difficult to put two and two together as to why I was in such a good-humoured mood all of a sudden. And if I was honest, I wasn't all that surprised by it.

They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder. And I'd needed... what? Half a day for that to work? But come on, it wasn't really that unusual. Nick was easy enough to get along with once he dropped his guard a little. Plus if we wanted to go by base girl theory (which I totally always do - I just wanted to put personality first to make myself look better) he was pretty cute. Not to mention my age too.

I shook my head - an unconscious move to try and disperse my thoughts. I clearly had motive to want to stay as favourite student. But it would probably help more if I actually tried listening right about now. At least until class was out.

So I made the attempt to get back up to speed on what we were learning about, stopping myself from drifting worryingly towards a state of daydreaming. I wasn't going to get anywhere with that attitude. And I definitely wouldn't want to risk anyone else picking up on it.

I'd just keep it to myself that I was happy that Nick had been the instructor for at least one thing today. And if I was good, then maybe I'd allow myself to gossip to Jenns about it later.

**XXX**

**DAY 9.  
1130 HRS.**

Today, I hit a wall. And I don't mean the climbing wall in the assault course or that I drove my car into a wall or something... I mean an honest-to-god, overwhelming mental block. I think it had been a long time in coming. And it totally sucked.

Every day had me growing increasingly nervous about the looming end to the programme and of course, the final tests. The thought of those tests alone was seriously starting to take its toll on me. I was beginning to think that I wasn't cut out for this at all. I still hadn't made any improvement with shooting for a start. What kind of police officer couldn't aim a gun?

I'd been up and dwelling on it since a ridiculous hour in the morning. And now I'd come to the most logical conclusion. I wasn't a police officer. I was just a dog trainer. Why was I even on this programme? Who was I kidding? Not even myself anymore.

If I dropped out of the training course now, then I wouldn't have to worry about the embarrassment of failing the final tests. I could just cut my losses and move on, right? It sounded simple in theory, but if that was really what I was going to do, then there was someone that I owed an explanation to.

I snuck into the academy before any of the other instructors got there. If there was one thing I'd learnt since I'd been here, it was that Nick was always early. Sure enough, I found him organising a slideshow on his laptop. He seemed surprised to see me, not that I could blame him. Training didn't start for another half hour.

"Everything alright?"

"I, err, kinda needed to talk to you about something," I said hesitantly, feeling guilty before I'd even said anything.

Nick closed his laptop, giving me his full attention. "Alright. Shoot."

"I think I'm going to drop out of the academy," I confessed. "I just don't feel I have what it takes to become a police officer."

Surprise crossed his face for just a moment. I'd expected him to be disappointed, but what I hadn't anticipated was for him to be angry. "So you're dropping out just like that? Where's all the motive you had for joining the force?"

"Look, this isn't just something I've decided on a whim," I explained rationally. "I've been giving this a lot of thought. I'm just trying to think about this logically here."

Nick still didn't look convinced. "Why would you even want to drop out? You're already better than most of the other cadets here!"

I barely even noticed the compliment hidden in there. "But at least they can shoot! How can I become a cop and be expected to help keep people safe when I can't even get one of the basics right?"

If anything, that seemed to annoy him even more. "Do you know why I came back to this academy?"

"I thought you said you just preferred teaching?" I said, confused as to where this was going.

"It was because I couldn't handle being out in the field," Nick said bitterly. "Every time I tried to tackle a criminal head on, I froze... I couldn't make myself act."

I stared at him, not believing what I was hearing. How could that even be possible? Professional crack-shot Nick Conforth suffered from stage fright? That just couldn't be right... Yet, at the same time, certain things started to make sense from when we'd been on patrol. But that still didn't make it any easier to wrap my head around.

"But you're amazing at everything!" I exclaimed, still unable to grasp this idea.

"What I'm saying is that everyone has weaknesses. Sometimes, they're a deal-breaker, but it all depends on what you do in order to work around them," Nick explained, still sounding irritated. "You won't know unless you try. I already know you have what it takes to become a police officer, but you still won't _try_! You're just running away at the first sign of cold feet."

I bit my lip. He was totally right, but I still personally thought that being a bad aim was a deal-breaker. "Look, either way, this is still _my_ decision. You must have had people drop out before, so why are you so angry with me?"

"Because I actually have faith in you and you're just throwing it away!"

That certainly shut me up. He was right again. He'd been the one training me and I really was just throwing his efforts aside, as well as his confidence in me - which totally threw me, by the way; I hadn't been expecting that one. He had every right to be angry. Why had I even asked?

"I don't want you to think this has anything to do with your teaching. I think you're an amazing instructor. It's just... I'm scared!" I confessed. "I'm not sure I want to take on a role full of such responsibility if I can't even aim a gun."

His expression softened slightly. "Is shooting really all that you're worried about?"

"Well. It was... But then the idea of tests made me start panicking about everything else as well," I admitted.

For a second, I thought he was going to smile, but he quickly regained that professional composure. "I have two presentations and charge of the physical training that I won't be able to get out of today..."

"Um, okay?" I wasn't sure what he was getting at.

"But tomorrow, I should be able to pass everything onto the other trainers. Then seeing as you think that I'm such a 'great instructor', I can run through everything with you again from start to finish," Nick decided. "And we'll definitely work on your shooting."

Oh, wow. I felt touched and not to mention guilty for messing up the supposed schedule. "Oh. You don't have to do that..." I said awkwardly.

"I do if it'll keep you on the programme," said Nick seriously. "Anyway, your training with Officer Dobson should be starting soon, so I suggest you hop to it."

"Right," I replied hastily. The last thing I needed after that blow-out was a show of tardiness.

"We can discuss more about tomorrow after the presentation," he added finally.

That professional front was up again. He sounded a little standoffish to me. Though it wouldn't have entirely surprised me, I still hoped that I hadn't hurt his feelings in any way with the intent of dropping out. Which clearly didn't seem to be happening anymore. He hadn't really given me a choice in the matter.

"Right," I repeated, feeling awkward again. "Um, and thank you."

I'd started towards the door when he called after me. "And Rudi?"

Well, at least we were still on first names. I turned back. "Yeah?"

"It's okay to be scared sometimes. Just don't do what I did and let it stop you from still trying."

I didn't even have to stop and think of my response. "If you'd stopped trying, then you wouldn't be here now. And I wouldn't have such an awesome instructor."

I thought I detected a hint of a smile. "What did I tell you about kissing up? Now don't be late for your training or you won't be top student anymore."

I chuckled. That was definitely motive enough. "Roger that. I'll catch you later then, teach."

"And don't call me teach."

"Okay, then how about sensei?"

"Just go already."

**XXX**

**DAY 10.  
1900 HRS.**

Thankfully, I couldn't sense any trace of anger or resentment from Nick today. He seemed back to his normal self. It was like yesterday hadn't even happened. I was glad that he wasn't mad at me anymore, but there is something about guys when they're angry that just makes them all the more hot. What's up with that?

We had a crazy rundown on everything throughout the day. Nick gave me some serious quick-fire quizzing on all of the theoretical work that we'd learnt so far. I've always sucked at lightning rounds - thankfully, the actual tests won't be like that - but I think I still managed to keep up okay.

I tackled the assault course several times over, determined to beat my score and to prove that I was at least good at one part of the training. There was no falling in the water this time - or any other embarrassing mishaps, thankfully. I'd been feeling really motivated and it was exactly what I'd needed.

I wasn't entirely sure where this sudden burst of spirit had come from. Maybe it was from the threat of the upcoming tests. Or maybe it was to show Nick that actually I wasn't a quitter after all - funnily enough, the idea to drop out had become a distant memory as soon as he'd put me in my place for it. Or maybe it was because he'd said that he had faith in me.

Whatever it was, I'd been damn well taking advantage of it and using it as pure energy fuel. I beat my original time by another three seconds. Suck on that, every kid who had ever called me a slowpoke back in school.

Most of that gusto disappeared when we started on shooting. I lost count of how many times I was made to go round the shooting course before we finally stopped and started concentrating on my aim. Nick coached me as best as he could and I tried hard to listen to his seemingly endless list of tips.

"Make sure you take a breath first."

"Pull the trigger with the tip of your index finger, not the crook of the first joint."

"Your feet should be shoulder-width apart."

"Keep both of your thumbs aligned."

"Don't grip the gun too tight or your hands will shake."

And so it went on. After hours of practice, my aim had improved only slightly. It was beyond frustrating. Nick couldn't possibly have anything else to teach me. It was a wonder he hadn't given up and gone home already. I was certainly all for it myself by this point.

"I'm not sure if it's from the recoil or just a natural glitch, but your shots always seem to go about an inch too high and just slightly off centre," Nick concluded.

"Natural glitch. That sounds like me," I grumbled. All of that earlier enthusiasm had definitely evaporated.

Nick looked deep in thought. He eventually seemed to come to a decision. "Put your headphones back on and aim again. Only shoot after I've tapped you on the shoulder."

Now what was he planning? Either way, I didn't question it and simply did as he instructed. I slid the headphones back into place and raised the gun, adjusting my grip accordingly and aiming yet again for the nose of the cardboard cut-out in front of me - exactly where I'd been aiming for this whole time.

Though this was now the fourth cut-out I'd been working on. I'd crucified several others throughout the course of the day.

Nick stepped up beside me and placed his hand over mine, moving my aim a little lower and just a fraction to the left. I didn't feel like I was aiming anywhere near the nose now, but he then tapped me firmly on the shoulder and took a step back. That was clearly my cue. Oh, well, he was the teacher.

Once again, I did as I'd been told and fired, feeling that now familiar kick-back from the gun. Once my hands had absorbed the shock from it, I slowly lowered the gun, as I stared straight ahead in amazement. There was a neat bullet hole through the nose of the target. My aim was practically dead on - it couldn't have been anymore than a millimetre off. It was my best shot yet.

"I did it!" I exclaimed excitedly, tearing my headphones off. "Or you did it! How did you do that?"

"Well, we already established the error margin in your aim," Nick explained, amused by my reaction. "So it was just a matter of allowing for that."

"You mean as long as I aim for anything other than what I'm supposed to, then I'll hit it every time?" I joked, exaggerating.

Nick actually laughed at that. It was the first time I'd seen him laugh. "Maybe not quite. You only have about an inch to work with. It's like accounting for wind speeds or other variables that could affect the trajectory."

"Only in this case, it's my habit of aiming high," I laughed. "But at least now I know how to compensate for it. It's all about how you try to work around your weaknesses, right?"

"Right," Nick smiled, not missing my paraphrasing of his quote from yesterday. "Though let's try it again first and make sure it wasn't just a fluke."

"Ye of little faith," I said teasingly. "But good idea. Knowing my luck, it would be a fluke!"

With the headphones going back over my ears, I took up my position and fired another shot at the target board. This one wasn't quite as good - it was about a centimetre off from the last bullet. Though it was still easily better than any of the previous attempts before that.

"Okay, I can't have you helping me aim every time I need to take a shot," I said, irritably brushing the headphones aside as I felt another stab of frustration.

"You're just not allowing enough difference," Nick assured me. "It was still one of your best shots. Try aiming again and I'll correct you if needed. This time, get a feel for the error margin before you shoot."

I took a calming breath. "Okay."

The headphones went back on and I took careful aim yet again. Nick nudged my hands over slightly to the best position. Like he'd said, I made sure I took a minute to observe and gage the distance between this point and where I'd originally been aiming.

He really hadn't been far off when he'd said that it was about an inch of difference. In my head, I put it at about one point two inches lower, to be exact, and just a fraction of an inch to the left. Okay. If I could always remember to allow for that, then surely, _surely_ I could do this... Right?

I took the shot. It landed straight on the nose, even better than the other successful shot. I could have jumped in delight. This was actually working. I'd only just taken my headphones off again when Nick cut in.

"Again," he instructed. "This time without me helping you."

I did as I was told. Now I knew exactly what to look for. And it totally worked. The next bullet tore straight through the existing hole, making it even bigger. The best part about it was that that one was all me. Nick hadn't had to help with my aim at all that time.

I tried again and got the exact same result. And again and again and again. The poor target board ended up with a hole in the middle of his face that was so big that even Michael Jackson would have turned his nose up at it (okay, sorry, that one was bad).

By this point, the other cadets had already gone home a while ago and the light had started fading outside. We'd been at this for hours - I'd completely lost track of time. But it was all completely worth it, because it had worked. I'd finally overcome my biggest worry over becoming a police officer. And it was all thanks to Nick.

Even now, he still had more tips for me. The man was a never-ending mine of ideas. "If you're still nervous, you should try practicing at an actual shooting range too," he suggested. "That way, you can get the feel for other types of guns as well."

"That's a great idea," I agreed. "And it also means I don't have to take up so much of your time that way."

Nick smiled, finally taking off his safety gear and setting them to one side. "That's just part of my job. And somehow, I get the feeling you won't need the extra practice now anyway."

I was pleasantly surprised to note a hint of pride in his voice at that last part. I realised that was what I'd actually been wanting for quite a while now. I took off my safety glasses and headphones for the last time of the day with a feeling of relief, putting them and the gun aside with Nick's gear.

"Your job doesn't exactly entail staying behind and still working after hours though," I pointed out. "You've gone far and beyond out of your way to help me get over my jitters and I'm seriously grateful for it."

Nick shifted from one foot to the other, actually looking embarrassed. "Like I said before, I'll do what it takes to keep you on the programme." He cleared his throat. "You've been a great cadet so far and I know you'll make a great officer too."

I couldn't help but beam with pride. I don't think he could have said anything better. "Thank you so much." I leant over and kissed him on the cheek. "For everything."

I'd been about to pull away, but a sudden, strong feeling stopped me and held me there, captivated. I could smell the faint musk of Nick's skin. It was intoxicating. I reached up with one hand and turned his face towards mine, lightly pressing my lips against his.

When there was no immediate response from him, I quickly pulled back. It couldn't have been more than two seconds, but he looked... surprised. There was no other word for it. I'd kinda been hoping for more of a positive reaction. Surprise was not what I wanted. Ah, crap, now what had I gone and done.

I felt my face flush. "I, err, I'm sorry," I apologised hastily. "I wasn't... I mean, I didn't mean to overstep any boundaries or anything. I just... I'm really sorry. I should go."

Nick still seemed to take too long to respond. "Rudi, wait... It's..."

"It's okay!" I cut across him, feeling myself starting to babble. "I need to go. I don't like driving in the dark anyway, so I'll see you tomorrow."

Didn't like driving in the dark? Now what the hell kind of a stupid thing to say was that? It wasn't even true. Not to mention it made me sound like even more of an idiot. I really sucked at thinking clearly when I was embarrassed. This was way, way worse than the stamina joke.

I practically ran through the parking lot to get to my car. And now I was a grown woman who was quite literally running away. Fantastic. Just fantastic.


	3. It Takes Two To Fandango

**DAY 11.  
1330 HRS.**

Even though I knew it was vital for me to attend the Academy every day for my training, I was still too chicken to go back. You'd think you'd get past this sort of crap once you got out of your teens, right? Wrong. I was clearly still destined to make an idiot of myself, no matter how old I was.

I got far too restless at home. Not only did I already feel like the naughty kid who was playing hooky, I also felt like I was really wasting my time by being so stupid. Even if I could find an excuse for missing a day of training - which I doubted Nick would buy anyway, after what had happened yesterday - sitting around and doing nothing wasn't going to aid me in any way in becoming a police officer.

Thankfully, I did have another tip to take. Not long afterwards, I found myself at the nearest shooting range. And it didn't take much longer for me to realise that not only was it good for getting in extra practice, like Nick had said, it was also a good way to blow off some steam. And boy, did I have some steam.

After the first few rounds, I felt myself starting to relax a bit more. I still wasn't sure if I was brave enough to face the Academy yet, but at least I didn't feel like I was wound quite so tightly. I was actually able to clear my head and think a little better. If we ignored today, then I had three days left of police training before my final exams. Just three days. I could not afford to miss any more of it. So I'd made a move on the teacher. Big deal...

Though, actually, it was a big deal. Clearly. Why else would I be hiding out here when I should have been at the Academy? I really was an idiot. I kept telling myself that the training programme was too important to skip out on just because I was embarrassed. Unfortunately, the rest of me refused to listen. So now what was I supposed to do?

"I thought I'd find you here."

I damn near jumped out of my skin. I was surprised I didn't shoot a hole through the ceiling. When my heart rate started to slow, I tried to sound as calm as I could. "Just a tip: don't sneak up on someone when they have a gun in their hand."

"Every cop should be able to handle surprises without reacting," said Nick.

"Yeah, well, I'm not a cop yet," I hedged, ejecting the clip from the gun just to be on the safe side.

"And you won't be if you don't complete your training programme," Nick pointed out. "Most people would at least call if they were going to be absent."

I still felt it was pretty obvious why I was absent today. "So you came here to find me," I said grudgingly.

"Well, when you didn't turn up to training, I called at your apartment first," Nick corrected me. "Then I came here."

I frowned. "Wait, how did you know where..." I let the question trail off as I realised the answer. "Ah. Cop perks, right?"

"Right."

If it had been anyone else, I probably would have been a little creeped out. As it was, I actually felt kinda pleased. I knew I was being naive and reading into it way too much, but I still liked that he'd made the effort to find me, rather than just writing me off as a skiver.

"I've already had to talk you out of quitting the programme," said Nick. "Have I now got to chase you back to the Academy as well?"

"You make me sound like I'm a troublemaker student," I joked, though in retrospect of recent events, it was sort of true.

"Sometimes, I think you are," he chuckled. At least he didn't seem mad at me for not turning up. He quickly became serious again though. "But... I am sorry. About yesterday."

Wait, what was he apologising for? I felt my face flush. "Oh, no, _I'm_ sorry. I didn't mean to overstep any boundaries or anything - that was wrong of me."

"So you will come back to the Academy?" Nick pressed, noting that I'd avoided the question before.

"I guess I can't say no when I'm this close to graduating," I smiled. "Especially after you went out of your way to come and hunt me down. Which I do appreciate, by the way."

Nick gave me a rueful smile. "Even if I checked up on personal information behind your back?"

"Eh, I guess I can let one time slide," I laughed.

"Good. And in order to make sure you don't go AWOL again, I wanted... to ask for your phone number."

He hesitated just slightly, which surprised me more than anything else. Did that mean that he wasn't just asking in case he needed to keep tabs on me again? I raised my eyebrows. "You could have got that from my records along with my address, couldn't you?"

He actually looked a little awkward, which surprised me even more. "Well, I figured I could at least ask for one of them in person."

Though I felt a little like he was giving me mixed signals, I still couldn't help but smile. He really was an odd duck. And I could only hope that maybe I had a chance after all. Being asked for my phone number certainly sounded like a good sign to me - I was choosing to ignore the context it was in. "I guess I can't argue with that. Have you got a pen?"

"That's okay; I don't need a pen."

Somehow, that didn't surprise me. I wondered absent-mindedly if graduating from the Academy would help my ability to memorise phone numbers too. Though that was most likely just wishful thinking. And by most likely, I meant indefinitely.

**XXX**

**DAY 12.  
1500 HRS.**

After the whole number swapping fandango, I hadn't needed any further coaxing to return to the Academy. I'd originally hid because I'd been embarrassed. I certainly wasn't embarrassed anymore. In fact, I had a new sense of confidence. The only thing to annoy me today was that I'd only had Nick as an instructor for one class earlier this morning and that had been it.

I'd gone into total girl mode last night and updated Jenns on the whole situation. She'd promised me that being asked for my number was definitely a good sign, especially as Nick had already proved that he could easily get that kind of information without my assistance. Then when I'd asked why he hadn't responded when I'd made a move on him, she'd simply said that 'men are slow'. How helpful.

The only semi-useful piece of advice she was able to give me was not to wait for the possibility of him calling either way, and to just flirt my ass off. The reason it was only semi-useful was because I sucked at flirting. I couldn't do it. Not consciously anyway. Jenns reckoned she'd seen me in action before, but I'd certainly never been aware of it at the time. When it came to flicking my hair and batting my eyelashes, I just felt like an absolute ass-hat.

But still, I didn't want to just sit around and do nothing. I only had today and two more days left at the Academy. I had to make an impression somehow. Which was made even more difficult by the fact that I barely even saw Nick with the new schedule. It was all very frustrating. So I just had to improvise.

We had small recesses in between training and our new 'revision' sessions in preparation for final exams, so I came up with a way to make the most of them. After one of said sessions, I snuck off to the main entrance room where Nick could usually be found.

I stuck my head round the door to find that I was right. "Hey!"

Nick looked up from the paperwork on his desk. "Hey. Everything alright?"

"Just a quick question... I'm making some revision notes," I explained. It wasn't technically a lie - I had started revising for the theoretical side of the exams. "Cops can legally paraphrase the Miranda rights, can't they?"

"Legally, yes," replied Nick. "Though it's generally easier just to memorise them and say them the same word for word every time." 

"Okay, got it. Thanks!"

And that was how I spent my day. Every spare two minutes that I got, I used them to hunt down Nick with some inane question that I already knew the answer to. So sue me; it was Jenns's idea.

I managed to score another few minutes in between physical training. Nick had just finished a class with the other group of cadets. Because there were so many of us, we'd been split into two groups in order to give everyone more time with shooting practice and the assault course.

I peeked around the door for the fourth time. "I'm here to bother you again."

"Oh, no," Nick chuckled. "I should start charging you for hassling me."

"Hey, hassle's my middle name," I said lightly. "Well, actually, it's my last name... But you get my drift."

Nick laughed. "Okay, what's the question this time?"

"I can't remember the cut-off value between petty theft and grand theft," I lied.

"A value of less than nine hundred and fifty dollars is petty theft," explained Nick. "Grand theft is any value equal to or higher than that. Or certain livestock."

"That's it. Great, thanks!"

By the sixth time, even I was starting to find the whole thing a bit ridiculous. But Jenns had really insisted that I needed to keep making myself known. "You're gonna get fed up of seeing my face," I said by way of apology.

"Not at all," smiled Nick, who only seemed to have been finding each visit increasingly amusing. I had a feeling that he was onto me. "Bring on round six of Trivial Pursuit: Cop Edition."

I grinned. Now that sounded like the kind of geeky line that I'd come out with. I must have been starting to rub off on him. "Okay, I've been going through the one hundred codes. I know that a four-one-seven is a person with a gun, but can't remember the code for a person with a knife..."

"Person with a knife is a four-one-seven-K," replied Nick, raising his eyebrows. "If you need a way to remember it, it's K... as in knife."

Damn. Okay, that had been a dumb one. I should have thought of a better question. "Gee, why didn't I think of that... Okay, well thanks again."

"Rudi, wait a second," said Nick, quickly getting to his feet as I made to leave. "What's this all about? You already know the answers to all of these."

Busted. "You don't know I know _all_ of the answers..." I hedged.

"Rudi, I was the one who tested you last week," Nick pointed out. "I know you know this stuff. I doubt the information has just fallen out of your head."

Whoops. I'd gotten so caught up in Jenns's 'help Rudi get herself noticed by hot instructor' plan that I'd kinda forgotten about that. "I just... wanted a refresher? Y'know, just to be sure."

"There are other instructors you can ask if you have questions on the theory work," said Nick. "You don't have to keep going out of your way to specifically find me."

"Well, you said before to come to you if I needed any help, so... that's what I'm doing," I replied, definitely improvising now. I even made an attempt at a hair flick and a flirty line that was more Jenns's level. "Plus you're my favourite instructor and all."

Nick gave me a bemused smile, then shook his head. "Look, I was trying to be professional about this and I was going to ask you after the programme was over, but you're kind of killing me here..."

To say I was lost would have been an understatement. "Err, what?"

Nick cleared his throat. I'd started to pick up that he did that when he was feeling uncomfortable. "I felt a bit bad about the way I acted the other night. Or rather, _didn't_ act... So I was wondering if you wanted to... go out some time."

Wait, what? Did that mean that the Jenns techniques had actually worked? I hoped the surprise didn't show on my face. I understood now why Nick looked so nervous. I guessed it wasn't just in the field that he tended to freeze up. It was totally adorable.

"Yes," I said without hesitation.

I think I'd managed to surprise him, because he seemed a little taken aback. To be fair, I had answered really fast. "Oh... Okay. Great. So... whenever's best for you."

He'd said that he hadn't wanted to ask me until the programme was over, so I was guessing that he was planning any dates to be after then as well. But I already had exams to worry about at the end of the week. I didn't want to have to wait until then for a date as well.

"How about tomorrow?" I suggested, biting the bullet. When I saw that surprised look on his face again, I grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, I just kinda suck at waiting."

He regained his composure and smiled. "No, tomorrow sounds good. We can work out the details sometime during the day."

"Okay. Sounds good." Most people would probably have let it lie, but there was still one thing that was on my mind. "I actually didn't think you were interested," I confessed.

"I'm sorry about that," Nick apologised. "You just... caught me off guard."

"Sorry," I couldn't help but grin again. "I guess I can be a little forward sometimes."

"You don't need to apologise," Nick assured me. He then laughed. "In fact, you should probably be proud. I'm not that easily surprised."

I laughed as well. "Well, in that case, then I'm very proud!"

Before Nick could say anything to that, there was a knock at the door behind me. I turned to see several cadets from the other group standing in the doorway. I'd clearly overrun my usual three-minute recess. Oops. I should have been at shooting practice by now.

Nick hastily cleared his throat again, as he slipped back into professional mode. "Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow, Miss Hassle."

Miss Hassle, bleugh. I shot him a glare in jest, to which he returned with the faintest of smiles. Two could play at that game. "Okay. See you tomorrow, _Officer_."

I squeezed my way past the cadets who were still standing in the doorway, trying not to grin stupidly to myself. They probably thought I was just sucking up to the teacher. Man, they had no idea.

**XXX**

**DAY 13.  
2100 HRS.**

Like all first dates, I'd been terrified for the good first chunk of the night. It had been a while since I'd been on a real date. Long enough to make me feel seriously out of touch. Even just getting ready had made me feel like I was going to have a nervous breakdown.

After going through and discarding every piece of clothing that I owned, then lamenting to Jenns over the phone about how I had nothing to wear - despite the fact that my bed had disappeared underneath all of the clothes - I eventually settled on a short, form-fitting red dress with a geometric pattern and a semi-modest neckline. Simple, but sexy. At least I hoped.

Although my hair only reaches to my shoulders, I generally tie it back to keep it away from my face. I'd decided to let it down tonight, leaving it bouncing about my face and shoulders. I'd tried for years to battle it with straightening irons, but its natural buoyancy just refused to be tamed. My dress at least brought out the chestnutty highlights in it, rather than it just looking the same boring brown as usual.

I stuck to moderate eye makeup and left it at that - generally the safest bet for me. I always forget about it and manage to smear it and give myself clown face. The most I splashed out was by taking quite liberal use of my most expensive Chanel perfume. I'd had the bottle for almost five years and had only used it twice. What can I say? I don't get out much.

Nick had picked me up from my apartment. Being picked up in a police cruiser was a little odd. I sincerely hoped that none of my neighbours had been watching. I didn't want to give off the wrong impression. I was still trying to fix the damage from when Jenns and I had tried setting off some Chinese lanterns outside the back of the apartment block a few New Years ago. Let's just say there had been fire involved. And quite a bit of it.

We went to some moderately fancy Portuguese restaurant. That was fine with me. I didn't do so great in overly fancy places. I never knew which fork to use and I had to get the waiter to explain what everything on the menu was, like ragú and cilantro. Plus I always wanted to put those funny bread baskets on my head. None of that was good for a first date. Trust me.

Thankfully, I didn't have to worry about any of that. Once I'd made the nerve-wracking decision over what would be the least messy thing to eat - always an important choice; I went with a spicy rice and chicken dish - I started to ease into the mood a bit more as my nerves finally died down.

I'd forgotten how easy Nick was to talk to once he loosened up a little. And once I did the same, apparently. I hadn't been much of a conversational wizard on the ride over. But eventually, we managed to slip into easy conversation without even realising it.

"So what's the deal with Rudi; is it short for anything?" Nick asked. 

"Actually, it's more of a nickname. My real name's Ruth," I admitted, making a face.

He looked amused. " I would never have put you down as a Ruth."

I laughed. "Yeah, I hate it. Thankfully, it's always just been Rudi, ever since I was a kid. It's only ever Ruth on paper." And maybe one day, I'd get off my butt and fix that part too. "How about you? Is it just Nick or is it short for Nicholas?"

"Just Nick," he replied. "We had an ongoing joke that our parents could never hack more than one syllable. My sisters are all Jess and Sam and Kat... You get the gist."

I smiled. "How many sisters do you have?"

"Five. And they're all younger than me."

"Ouch," I laughed. "I bet that was fun growing up."

He smiled. "It was definitely an experience. So what about you? Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

I shook my head. "Not exactly. I actually always wanted to be part of a big family. Then my mom remarried and I ended up gaining four step-brothers and sisters. It turned out it wasn't quite the picnic I'd imagined."

I decided not to go into detail of how being the only step-sibling to them had made me feel like an outcast and never part of their family. Mainly because it sounded like I'd had a deprived childhood, which actually wasn't true. Sure, it had bothered me somewhat at the time, but mostly, it had just spurred me onto the dream of having a big family of my own one day.

And that was definitely not something you shared on a date. Any mention of any sort of future family plans - whether it involved said date or not - would certainly send most guys running.

Nick nodded. "Bigger families can definitely be a lot of trouble at times."

"Tell me about it," I agreed, even though that hadn't necessarily been my issue. "I ended up moving out quite early and living with my friend anyway. And then we moved here."

"So where were you from originally?"

"Washington. A town called Forks." I pulled another face. "The jokes I got about it at my last job got really tedious."

Nick looked confused. "Jokes?"

"Ah. You've clearly never had to sit through a Twilight movie... Trust me, you're better off not knowing," I insisted.

Nick chuckled. "Alright, I'll take your word for it."

I was soon able to forget that I'd been feeling rusty at the whole dating scene. In fact, I'd already slipped back into my comfort zone. I'd actually forgotten how much I enjoyed it. Getting to sit down, laugh and joke and actually get to know someone. Pretty much everyone knew that I loved to talk, but I also loved to listen too.

I learnt that Nick had grown up here in Santa Barbara, but that his father was originally from New York and that his mother had some Italian ancestry (I felt pleased that I'd clocked that one straightaway). He was four years older than me - I hadn't been so loathed to admit my own age after learning that part, even if he did look much better for it than I felt I did - and he'd been teaching at the Academy for nearly eight years now.

"Okay," I said after we'd covered all of the basics. "Tell me something random. Something most people wouldn't guess."

"Err, let me think..." Nick sat back in his chair, thinking it through. "I can dance. Kind of."

"Kind of?" I repeated, amused. "Does that mean you only know the first half of a dance and have to freestyle the rest? Or does it mean you're just being modest?"

He grinned sheepishly. "Being modest, I suppose."

I laughed. "Okay, so what kind of dancing can you do?"

"Guess."

Of course, that just gave me the opportunity to come out with the most outlandish suggestions I could think of. "Tap dancing? Line dancing? The fandango?"

"That last one sounds crazy."

"I know; I don't even know what it is. I've just always liked that word."

Nick laughed. "But no, none of those."

Since it was me, my guesses just got increasingly ridiculous. "Bhangra?"

"Still no."

"River dance?"

"Definitely not."

"If you tell me that you can do Gangnam Style, then that really doesn't count."

He laughed again. "Okay, okay, it's swing dancing."

"Wow." I was impressed. From what I knew of swing, it was one of the livelier dance styles. I totally had two left feet when it came to dancing. I was only happy if I could just stand in one place and point a lot. "So how did that come about?"

"One of my sisters decided she wanted to learn when she was seventeen," he explained. "And none of the boys were brave enough to be her partner."

"Aww, so big brother was nice and stepped up."

"Are you kidding? I got bullied into it."

That made me laugh. "Whatever. I bet you loved it!"

He smiled, but didn't deny it. "Alright, so tell me something about you that people wouldn't expect."

"Okay. Erm..." I could think of a couple of things, but there was one that always provoked quite amusing reactions. "I do have quite a lot of tattoos."

Nick raised his eyebrows, looking sceptical. "Really?"

His response wasn't too surprising. I generally didn't have any of them on show - even now, when I was wearing a lot less than I did at the Academy. I knew the general consensus on tattoos, particularly when it came to jobs, so I'd had them done in more... strategic places.

I grinned. "Yep. Eight, to be exact."

The look on Nick's face was hilarious. " _Eight_? Where do you hide them all?"

"Hey, that's for me to know and for you to find out," I teased.

I only said it to fluster him more. It totally worked. He really was cute when he was uncomfortable. It certainly made a nice change from me being the awkward one. And if I was honest, it just made me like him all the more.

That actually seemed to be the recurring feeling throughout the night. He really opened up and the more we talked, the more I realised that this probably wasn't just a little teacher-student crush. He really was a great guy. I couldn't find anything to fault him on. I definitely wanted the chance to do this again. I just had to hope that the feeling was mutual.

The one flaw with having the date in the middle of the programme was that it couldn't last as long as I would have liked it to. I had my final day of training tomorrow and obviously Nick had to be there to teach, meaning that the date would have to be cut short if we both wanted to be at the Academy on time in the morning. Or at least that was supposed to have been the plan.

"I guess I shouldn't have been impatient and should have waited until the programme was over," I admitted in the car.

Nick kept his eyes on the road, but he smiled. "It was nice to not have to wait until then. And it doesn't mean we can't do it again."

I beamed. "I'd like that."

"I would too."

We pulled up in front of my apartment block and he insisted on walking me up to my door. It was a very guy move. I wasn't complaining. The light outside my apartment was still broken - maintenance had insisted that they'd get it fixed this week; yeah, right - so I had to fumble for my keys in the dark.

I may have kinda made even more of a meal out of it to keep Nick there a little longer. I still wasn't ready for the date to end yet. I was pleased to note that he seemed to be thinking the same.

"So I guess I'll see you tomorrow," he said, somewhat awkwardly. He sounded a little reluctant to me and this time, I didn't even think it was just wishful thinking on my part.

"Unless... Unless you want to come in for a coffee first?" I suggested, feeling daring. It was a total line. Everyone knew it.

Nick gave me a very long, knowing look that actually sent shivers down my spine. "What if I said I don't actually drink coffee?"

I played along. "Then I'd say that's okay; I don't either. I don't even have a coffeemaker."

"Good. Then let's just forget the coffee part."

"Sounds good to me."

And then we were suddenly kissing. And he was definitely responsive this time. All guards had dropped tonight. I pushed him back against the wall in my eagerness and wound my arms around his neck, his encircling my waist in the same movement, all the while our lips still moving together.

"Am I going to get into trouble for doing the teacher?" I managed to tease in between kissing.

"It's okay; favourite students get preferential treatment," he breathed back.

"Oh, good..."

My mind went into autopilot mode as I forgot everything else but the taste and the feel of Nick's lips. I vaguely remembered the idea of going inside, which spurred me into further action. I tugged at his shirt, pulling him forward and directing him into the apartment with me. I somehow managed to ungainly kick the door closed behind us.

"Now let's see if you can find all eight tattoos," I said huskily.

Nick moved his mouth across to my earlobe and breathed, "Challenge accepted."

**XXX**

**DAY 14.  
0900 HRS.**

I was woken up by my alarm clock. I never slept till my alarm went off. I was always an early riser - I only set it as a precaution, which in this case, had clearly been a good thing. Only when I opened my eyes did I remember and realise why I hadn't woken up earlier.

"I've got it." Nick got to the alarm clock first, saving me from having to clamber over him.

Oh, yeah. No wonder I'd slept so well. "Thanks."

"No problem."

There was a small, somewhat awkward silence. It was that typical morning-after discomfort of 'we saw a _lot_ of each other last night, so how do we act about it now?' I didn't do awkward silences, so naturally, I'd gotten pretty good at breaking them.

I rolled over to face him, resting my cheek against my arm to prop myself up slightly. "So... I hope not all of the cadets get that extracurricular lesson."

And just like that, the awkwardness dissolved. Nick laughed. "I told you; preferential treatment."

I grinned. "I think I can get used to that."

He smiled. "Well, this is your last day of training. So starting tomorrow, I won't be your instructor anymore."

I smiled back ruefully. "I think part of me is kinda sad about that."

His expression softened slightly and he slid an arm around me. I very obligingly pressed myself closer to him, laying my head against the nook of his shoulder. "Just worry about your exams first. Then we can work out everything else."

"Bleugh, exams," I mumbled childishly against his chest, though I was still smiling to myself. It wasn't really the most romantic way to put it, but I liked the promise of working out the 'everything else'. And honestly, not-so-romantic was just fine with me. It definitely suited Nick to a tee.

"You'll do fine," he assured me confidently. He then poked me lightly in the ribs. "Plus you can't put all my hard work of teaching to waste."

I laughed. "Oh, god no, perish the thought..."

I could have happily lay there and snuggled all day, but sadly, we could only really sneak another half an hour. We both had to be at the Academy in less than a few hours. I was so glad I'd set the alarm. I hated rushing at the best of times - it was even worse when you had to take turns with the shower.

Of course, I'd very helpfully pointed out that we could have saved some time by sharing, until Nick pointed out that actually that would likely take more time than if we both had separate showers. I'd had to concede that that was probably true. So I encouraged Nick to shower first whilst I rustled us up some breakfast, amused by his sudden new spark of witty confidence.

The land line rang whilst I was scrambling some eggs. I let it ring out and go to voicemail, but then it just rang again. Geez, who was this persistent on a morning? I picked it up and used my shoulder to hold it against my ear whilst I continued cooking. "Hello?"

"So are we still on for tonight or what?" That was Jenns for you. There was never any formalities with her.

"Tonight?" I racked my brains, trying to remember what we'd planned. My mind had sort of turned to dreamy mush after last night.

Jenns clearly thought I was looking for a way to back out. "I know you have your exams tomorrow and will wanna prepare for that, but we can still squeeze in some takeout and at least one movie. Come on, it's our tradition."

Tradition? Oh, of course. Only then did it click. Today was Valentine's Day. The day that Jenns and I would always arrange a cheesy girls' night in as bitter singletons. Except that now, I wasn't sure where that last part might be going as of late. Talk about ironic timing.

"Non-Valentine night. Of course. Sorry, I'm a bit spaced this morning," I apologised. "But yeah, tonight's still good with me. Just not a late one, okay?"

"Smashing. Text me when you finish training today and I'll grab food on my way over. And you can tell me all about your big date last night."

"Well, err, now that you mention it... Said date's actually still here right now," I said, unable to keep it to myself, but still lowering my voice. I'd realised that I couldn't hear the water running anymore, so I could only assume that Nick was now out of the shower.

"Hold the phone... You mean he stayed the whole night?"

"Maybe."

"And what happened to being a good girl and having an early night before your last day of training?"

"I kinda decided to be bad instead?" I grinned.

I didn't think Jenns could have sounded more proud. "That's my girl! Now I definitely can't wait to hear about it... Hey, wait, you said he's still there, right? Can I come and meet him?"

"What? _No_!" I protested.

On the rare chance that I ever hit it off with a guy, Jenns became a combination of an older brother, sister _and_ both parents. She liked to size guys up for me. And I mean quite literally size them up. Standing at over six feet tall and being considerably heavy-set, I could appreciate how intimidating that could be for a guy. She was probably a good five inches taller than Nick was. I needed at least more than one night with him before I subjected him to the possibility of losing to a woman at arm wrestling.

"I'll be good this time; I swear."

I snorted. "Yeah, right. Let's just stick with girls' night for now. Give it a bit more time before we start branching out."

"Fine. As long as I get every single dirty detail tonight."

"Duh. Who else would I gossip to otherwise?"

Jenns rarely ever laughed, but I was sure she would have been smiling at that. "Atta girl. Text me later, alright?"

"You got it."

Nick emerged just as I was plating up the eggs, ham and toast. What can I say? I'm no culinary genius. He was now fully dressed, though his hair was still damp. Put a wet shirt on him and he'd have the whole Mr. Darcy thing going on... Only shorter. And not British. I was clearly just feeling the Valentine's Day vibe. That or it was the post-sex buzz. That always helped.

I hadn't realised that I was still smiling to myself as we were eating. "What do you keep smiling at?" Nick asked, tousling his wet hair self-consciously. "Did I miss a spot or something?"

"Oh, no, it's nothing really." I decided not to mention the Mr. Darcy fantasy. "I guess you could just say I'm in a good mood."

"Good mood, huh?" Nick repeated amusedly. "And did I hear you say something about Valentine's Day earlier?"

Aw, crap, he had been able to hear me. I hoped I'd been cryptic enough for him to not get much out of the one-sided conversation. "Yeah. It's today actually. I completely forgot."

"Oh, me too. I had no idea."

"No big plans then?" I teased.

"Unless you call a night in with Fenway big plans, then no," Nick chuckled.

"Aww, I didn't realise he actually stays with you."

"He doesn't. I'd just hoped I could borrow him so I'd at least have some company," Nick joked.

"Hey, I thought I was the dog lover here," I laughed. Though of course, any doggy appreciation was always a plus point in my books.

"Good point," he smiled. "Though honestly, I'll probably just be at the Academy tonight. The other cadets have got their mid-programme mock tests today, meaning I'll have plenty of papers to mark. So it'll be a dull one for me."

"Ouch," I said sympathetically. "Well, if it's any consolation, me and my friend have a Valentine's tradition where we watch movies, eat crap and just bitch like bitter old women."

Nick laughed. "I think I'll stick to my night in with Fenway."

He seemed quite thoughtful throughout the rest of breakfast, but didn't say anything else about it. We continued eating in companionable silence. It was quite nice. I could definitely get used to this. Though I knew better than to push things. At least not just yet. 

"I'd better go shower," I eventually conceded after glancing at the clock on the wall. I only had an hour now before training started.

Nick's eyes followed my gaze. "And I should actually go," he decided, getting to his feet. "I need to run home and get my uniform first, then I have some stuff to sort out before everyone else gets to the Academy."

"Oh. Okay." That made sense. I got up. "Here, let me come and unlock." I rescued my keys from the floor where I'd completely missed the key bowl in my, err... distraction last night. "You got everything?"

Nick retrieved his jacket, which had also ended up on the floor, and patted both pockets. "Yeah. Thanks for breakfast, by the way."

I smiled coyly. "And thank you for an amazing night."

He gave me a warm smile in return. "And that too."

I opened both locks and released the latch. "So... I guess I'll see you at the Academy."

"Listen..." Nick put his hand on the door frame. "I know I said to worry about exams first, but it just feels like an appropriate time to say this. I want you to know that I want to be able to do this again. Soon."

"Wow, are you proposing another date already? You are moving things along fast, aren't you?" I teased.

He smiled slightly. "Actually, not fast enough. So I'm asking you out for real this time."

Apparently, it doesn't matter whether you're an adult or not; your heart can still skip a beat like it did back when you were a teenager. "So by for real, you mean like boyfriend and girlfriend real?" I knew that now I really did sound like a teenager, but I wanted to make sure I wasn't getting the wrong idea. That could be awkward.

Nick chuckled. "Yes, that's exactly the kind of real I mean."

"You do realise that asking me out on Valentine's Day is pretty much the cheesiest thing possible?" I pointed out teasingly, feeling the butterflies fluttering in my stomach. I sidled in closer to him and slid both hands up his chest. "But it's still a yes."

He smiled, his arms snaking around my waist. "Are you sure? Even if it's super cheesy?"

"Without a doubt." I beamed, tilting my face up towards his. "Besides, I could do with a reason to start liking Valentine's Day. Otherwise, people will start thinking that me and my friend are lesbian spinsters."

Nick laughed, then pressed his lips to mine. "Not on my watch."


End file.
